Of Old Oak Trees
by Elysia of Corellia
Summary: For were there such friends anywhere As Slytherin and Gryffindor? All friends had to first meet each other somewhere, at some point in time... Oneshot.


Well, here's yet another ficlet. grins I sure hope it gets more reviews than either of the other two! What could the problem be? Are folks reading and not reviewing? Because if so, I've got to warn you, I probably won't post too many more...

Anyway, this is my idea of when Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor first met. For all I know, it could even be canon, given how little JKR has told us of the Founders.

Disclaimer: not mine.

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Midsummer would be coming soon, he thought with glee. Midsummer and the delicious feasts with it. Everyone got to eat some of that food, he knew. Swans and roast hogs and maybe even beef, if you were lucky and quick, like he was, like any orphan had to be. But for now, the streets were dry and covered in the dust from nearly two months without rain.

He wandered down the streets with no particular destination in mind. Already he'd finished the chores the old stable-master had given him, so dinner was secured. For now, there was nothing to do, nowhere to be, and restless feet refused to stay indoors as might have been wiser. Heat waves shimmered in the late afternoon sun.

His feet directed him on a seemingly aimless course that brought him just outside the castle walls to a hill dotted with trees and shrubs. Most of the trees were fairly small, giving very little shade, but near the top if the hill stood a large oak. Sacred once, it was now the favored resting spot for the children of the village. Of course, there were restrictions on this, as on everything else. The lord's son, Aaron, a boy very like him in looks but oh so different in upbringing, also enjoyed the shade of this tree. Nobody was allowed, by unspoken law, to relax in that shade when _he_ wanted to use it.

Luckily, he wasn't there right now. Someone else was.

The child paused, studying the newcomer with curiosity. Sleek black hair was secured somehow to the nape of his neck, from which it fell over his shoulder in a black river stretching to his navel. He had dusky skin of the sort which the boy had never seen before - not quite black, nor brown, but seeming to have a dark grey mixed with the normal tan. The other boy was sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the trunk of the old oak with slender hands on his knees and his eyes closed, very still. In fact, from here he didn't appear to be breathing at all…

The boy stepped into the shade and shivered as a tingle of magic coursed through him. Immediately tilting his head down, the unfamiliar boy looked at him steadily with silver eyes, and one of his hands slipped stealthily inside the dark green vest he was wearing.

"It's okay," he reassured him quickly. "I know I look like Aaron, but I'm not like him at all. Anyway, I didn't really want to sit there. I like climbing it better." Matching actions to words, he jumped up to catch hold of a lower branch and clambered atop it, going from there to another, higher limb, and from there to one perhaps eight feet from the ground. Stretching out cat-like along the wood, he toyed with some leaves, peered down, and shoved his unruly blonde hair out of his face with a muffled grunt. How did the other keep his out of his face without cutting it short or using a leather strip?

Now the other boy was looking up at him with a curious expression. "Who is Aaron?" His voice was like his hair, dark and smooth and low.

"Him? He's my brother. Well, half-brother. But he's the lord's heir, so he gets to live in the castle and boss people around. I'm just a stablehand." He reflected a moment, absently pulling off a leaf and nibbling at it. "He's not very nice."

"I see." With that, the black-haired boy closed the silver eyes, leaning his head back again, and didn't move.

Well, he could sure sympathize with that. The heat was enough to make anyone drowsy, even if the hottest hours were already past and the sun was now slowly drifting towards the hills. Discarding the leaf, he dangled an arm over the branch and watched the white clouds go slowly by. His own light brown eyes drifted shut, and he dozed lazily on the supporting limb.

At first he paid little attention to the footsteps, but as they drew nearer, he reluctantly opened his eyes, grumbling irritably. His half-brother and his retinue of followers had apparently decided to come relax beneath the oak themselves. Luckily, none of them were likely to look up and see him. The instant they passed into the shade, the other boy opened his eyes and stared at them, subtly reaching into his vest.

"And who are you?" inquired the leader of the pack.

"I might ask the same," was the reply.

The taller blonde frowned. "Aaron, son of Benjamin, the Duke of this land. Now, your name?"

"I don't see a need to give it so freely, I'm afraid." The voice was quiet, but the will behind it was unmistakable.

"In that case, you're in the wrong spot," the lordlet informed him nastily. "You see, that is _our_ tree. Kindly remove yourself."

"Is it really?" The tone implied detached interest. "Who made it yours? And why should I move? I am quite comfortable here."

"My power made it mine," was the angry answer. "Move, or else…"

"Or else what? You had better back that up with something substantial."

"Or else we'll hex you into moving!"

"Will you?" The strange boy seemed to be suddenly alert, tensed.

The taller blonde smirked, drawing his wand. The younger, perched in the tree and watching with great interest, twisted his face in envy. If only he had a wand, he'd show that arrogant lordling what-for! But wands were costly, and one had to make a special trip to buy them. The thoughts passed briefly, and then a quiet voice caught his attention.

"Expelliarmus," murmured the dark boy, pointing a wand at the arrogant interloper. So that was what he'd been reaching for. The coveted wand flew from Aaron's grasp into the hand of the other boy. He sat up straight on his branch, and the lord's son gasped in shock. No-one had ever done that before!

"Now, then. I do not mind sharing this space, but I don't think I particularly want to leave. I suggest you back away, slowly, and then try to convince me you won't try something like that again." His voice was still quiet, the boy marveled. And he didn't look any older than himself…

The pack of boys attacked. Not all of them had wands, but a good number did, and the strange other was dodging hexes and curses from at least six different directions, and fists from even more. His sense of honor flared abruptly. That many against one alone should not ever be tolerated, not by him. Judging the distance, he stood, balancing easily atop the thick branch, and jumped, landing on one boy that had just been preparing to fire another curse. He paused for a few seconds to check; the boy was out cold. Snatching up the wand and regretting that he did not know how to use it, he headed towards the other, hurling punches and kicks as he went. Though he was slightly smaller, he'd been in more than his share of fights on countless occasions, and another boy had been knocked out of the action by the time he reached the other boy's side.

A quick glance was spared for him, and rushed words. "I'm going to try a wide-ranged curse. Get ready to duck."

He took in the words quickly, punching another attacker in the chin and then blocking one from his comrade-in-arms.

"Now," he heard softly, and he ducked.

"Immobulus!"

Most of the boys without wands froze instantly, the largest two or three the only to keep coming and the lordling immobile. Of those with wands, only four managed to raise suitable shields. The odds had just improved considerably, in the fair boy's opinion, and he wasted no time whatsoever in engaging another opponent. Bringing a brief pang of disappointment, a curse zoomed in to knock him twenty feet backwards. Looking over, his eyes were snared by silver ones and he was beckoned with a quick gesture of the head.

Coming, he watched in awe as the other boy erected a shimmering shield. "That should hold for a few seconds… Now listen. I'm going to be distracting the ones with wands. Can you get them out while I hold their attention?" He nodded, oddly compelled by the bright orbs. "Good. Now go!"

The shield vanished, and he began running. Though a steady stream of hexes were still being fired in all directions, it seemed to be concentrating on one particularly vicious foe. One "Rictusempra!" hit and held, and he seized his chance. A clenched fist in the chin eliminated the attacker. He grinned happily, enjoying a chance to get back at some of his tormenters.

Unfortunately, the next was both more cautious and more skilled at physical fights, and he struggled for some minutes before "Petrificus Totalis" immobilized his opponent, furious eyes glaring holes from a stilled face. That left two, and then the others… The third proved no challenge, and now, aside from the great wandless brutes, there was only one.

The last was more intelligent than any of his companions. When the younger boy came behind him, he whirled and hit him.

"Petrificus Totalis!"

Locked into place, he nonetheless smiled inwardly as, distracted, the annoyance was hit by a repeat of his own hex. And then he winced as a bright blue bolt flew past his face, singing a few of the wild blond hairs. A loud thud occurred directly behind him and he realized one of the wandless ones had been about to seize on him as a shield - or perhaps simply to beat him further.

After freezing or knocking out the remainder, the stranger strode over to him, examining him with what appeared to be some amount of curiosity before releasing him from his motionless state. He immediately stumbled as the tensed muscles relaxed. The other, with impossibly fast reflexes, caught his shoulder, steadying him until he could find his balance.

"Where'd you learn to do all that?" he immediately asked.

"All kinds of places," was the reply, and the other looked over his shoulder, freezing for a moment. "I've got to go."

"Go where? Why?" He didn't get an answer to that, as the black-haired boy raced for the tree, disappearing behind it. Curious, he was about to go investigate, but then the adults were there, gazing around at the carnage and then at him in disbelief. One soldier stood in front of him.

"Did you do this, boy?" He was asked in stern tones.

Praying he wouldn't be searched and the wand he was still holding found, he answered. "No, sir, how could I? I don't even know how to use a wand, sir." That at least was no lie…

"Well then, child, do you know who did?"

"No, sir." Another not-lie. He _didn't_ know who it was that he had helped. Although he sure hoped he would come back so he could ask where he'd learned to do all that, and where he'd gotten his wand… The soldier didn't need to know that, though.

"Strange," the soldier murmured under his breath. "Very strange." The boy did his best to look innocently clueless as the soldier turned away to help revive and unfreeze the bully gang. As soon as his back was turned, he ran to the oak tree, climbing it swiftly. He didn't particularly want to be around when the bullies could come after him again - although he doubted they'd really want to stay here, after that fight. More likely they'd go back to the castle or their respective homes.

Sure enough, he was looking at an empty area a half-hour later. Sighing, he settled down along a branch, higher this time, about twenty feet from the ground, and watched the eastern clouds begin to turn red and gold in a deeper blue sky. They were beautiful, and as always, captured his attention completely.

"Thank you for helping me against that pack," a voice said behind him.

Startled, he twisted and nearly fell, catching himself just in time to swing back up atop the branch. "Huh?"

"You did not have to jump in," the strange boy explained. "Thank you for doing so anyways."

He just stared for a moment. When had he reappeared? There was something odd about that boy… "It wasn't fair," he answered. "You shouldn't have to fight them all alone. It would've been wrong not to help."

Seeming to digest that for a few seconds, the black-haired boy abruptly seated himself cross-legged on the branch. Staring again, the blonde boy wondered how on earth he could keep his balance seated like that - or be comfortable, either, for that matter.

Banishing the matter from his thoughts, he held out a hand. "I'm Godric."

The other hesitated a moment, then took it. "And I am Salazar." More scrutiny. "You said that was your half-brother?"

He shifted slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah. But my mom was a serving-woman, so I don't really count for much with my father."

"Ahhh…." Considering look. "You're much nicer than that oaf, at any rate. Better in a fight, as well."

A proud expression decorated his face. "Yep," he bragged, "if it weren't for the wands, I could beat any of them."

"It certainly looked that way," the other agreed. "You'd probably be even better if you did have a wand."

Godric smiled, happy with the assessment. Breaking off a small twig of dead wood, he twirled it idly. "Uh-huh." He paused, curiosity arrested by an odd fact just considered. "Where'd you get a name like Salazar?"

A shrug and a light grin. "I had unusual parents, I suppose. My surname is Slytherin, and it's almost as odd."

He had to agree with that. Never before had he heard such an odd label to carry around. "Like a slithering snake?"

Suddenly, the other's expression changed minutely, becoming more guarded and less open. "Yes, something like that." Pausing, "do you like snakes?"

Playing idly with the stick, he considered for a brief moment. "They're okay. As long as they don't bite, anyway. Some of 'em are really cool."

"Like what?" The wariness gave way to intrigue.

"Runespoors sound really neat. Basilisks too." Grinning broadly, he sat up straighter; dangerous animals, he loved. "And dragons - wait, are dragons related to snakes? They look kinda like them, and sometimes they sound like them - but I've never heard a snake roar, or -" He was interrupted with an amused smile.

"Have you ever heard a dragon?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, twice! I didn't get to see them, though, because the adults cooped all of us up inside while the warriors chased them away. I wish they'd've let me see them. Later one of them made an illusion for me, and it was beautiful, all black with sleek spikes running down to the spine, and…"

The dark boy listened as the fair one chattered on, describing perfectly the Hungarian Horntail.

"Anyway, it was really splendid. Have you seen dragons?"

"Yes, several times."

"Really? When?" Godric sat forward, twig forgotten.

"While we were traveling. A Welsh green, and then a Norwegian Ridgeback, and a Chinese Fireball - Mother said it was unusual to see him as far west as we were, but he wasn't there for long."

"Does your mum know lots of things about dragons and other creatures?"

An abrupt silence fell. Salazar looked down and didn't speak. The tawny-haired boy guessed quickly that he'd made a misstep.

"She's… gone, isn't she?"

"Yes…" He sighed."

"I lost mine, too," he offered hesitantly. "Four years ago, this midsummer. The sickness got her, and she just shriveled away." More silence. "How long ago?"

"Almost a year. She was… killed. While out looking for food."

"Ohhh…" There was a pause. "What about your da?"

"He's been gone for six years." He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. "He was hunting, and he ran into some wolves. He got away from those, but then a bear found him." Emotionless tones. "He'd seen the Grim earlier that day, but he didn't believe in omens and he went to hunt anyway."

A shiver sped down the fair boy's spine, and he looked away, staring directly at the setting sun. When his mother had still been alive, she'd told him not to - but the colors were beautiful. The other boy watched with him as it sank lower. A gong rang out in the silence, and he stirred reluctantly.

"They'll be closing the gates soon."

The other made no move. "I know. You should go."

He slid down to the next branch and paused. "Aren't you coming?"

"No."

He cocked his head to the side. "You're staying out here for the night?" Disbelief laced his voice; Salazar laughed softly.

"Is there any reason I shouldn't?"

"You won't be able to get in later."

"So?" His tone sharpened as he saw the disbelief still on Godric's face. "I've stayed the night in less hospitable places alone. I will be fine."

Surrendering, the fair boy left off. "Okay, then." A pause. "Will you be around tomorrow?" He certainly hoped so… This new friend was intriguing.

"Do you want me to stay?" Now, why had he asked that question, the fair boy wondered before answering.

"Yes."

"Then I'll be here. In the afternoon."

"All right." He made his way down the rest of the tree, then looked up. "See you then!" Without waiting for a response, he turned and dashed for the castle gates, reaching them just before they closed.

Godric could not wait until tomorrow…

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Alright, folks, I beg you: review. It is becoming rather discouraging over here...


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